


The Wrapping Paper Apocalypse

by Actual_Writing_Trashcan



Series: Colossus Hyperfixation Collection [13]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, JUST BARELY RATED T, Multi, Nudity, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sexual Content, THIS ALMOST GOT OUT OF CONTROL, but it easily could've been asjlsksldfsl, christmas fics make it easy to do that, excessive use of the phrase 'tongue bath', holy cow, it's law, not out and out smut, wade loves arts and crafts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 05:30:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15879516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actual_Writing_Trashcan/pseuds/Actual_Writing_Trashcan
Summary: The immediate follow up to "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas." This time, they actually celebrate Christmas.(All warnings in the tags, but this one RIDES THE EFFIN' LINE of mature content. Basically foreplay, nothing below the chest aside from some clothed grinding, but YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)Set right after "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas," but still ambiguously in the timeline because, again. Can't be assed.





	The Wrapping Paper Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> Russian Translations:
> 
> Dobroye utro, myshka: Good morning, little mouse.
> 
> Schastlivogo Rozhdestva, dorogoy: Merry/Happy Christmas, darling.

You wake up warm, tucked under layers of thick blankets and nestled against your Piotr’s chest. You sigh, stretch, and wiggle up higher so you can press your lips against his cheek. “Morning.”

He comes to with a sharp intake of breath and a grunt. “ _Dobroye utro, myshka_.” He yawns, stretches, and rubs at his eye with the heel of his hand. “What time is it?”

“Uh…” You wiggle over him to reach the nightstand and check his phone. “Half past eight. I’m surprised you didn’t have an alarm for this morning.”

“No alarms. It is holiday.” He wraps his massive arms around your waist and rolls, depositing you on your back and positioning himself over you.

You giggle and stroke his muscular forearms and biceps appreciatively. His hips are pressed flush against yours, and you can feel that some parts of him are definitely more…  _awake_  than others. “Now, this is what I call a proper wake up call.” You sigh happily when he presses his lips against yours and loop you arms around his neck. “Merry Christmas, Pete.”

“ _Schastlivogo Rozhdestva, dorogoy_.”

You twine your legs around his hips and use your newfound purchase to grind yourself against him. “Mind if I unwrap one of my presents early?”

He grins –you’ve found he doesn’t mind the occasional innuendo, provided it’s not too perverted and issued in private–and starts kissing up and down your neck and jaw. “Please do.”

You moan breathlessly and tilt your head back to give him better access. He’s started rocking his hips against yours –apparently he’s just as horny as you are–and the friction of your combined movements is nothing short of heavenly. You start tugging his nightshirt up his back, hellbent on stripping him down and screwing him until neither of you can really move–

Someone pounds on his bedroom door, making both of you jump. “Hey! Chrome Dome! Merry Christmas!”

Piotr groans and drops his head against the pillows. “Of course.”

You roll your eyes.  _The one day that Wade wakes up early, and it’s the one day that I manage to talk my boyfriend into morning sex._ You glare up at the ceiling and flip it off.  _For fuck’s sake, universe! I just want to bone my boyfriend! Is that too much to ask?_

“Rise and shine, lazy bones! It’s Christmas, and I’m feeling like some pancakes! And that goes for you too, Y/N. I know you’re in there; I already checked your room, and there’s no way you’re up before Iron Giant.”

Piotr clenches his hands into fists, gripping at the bed sheets, and sighs resignedly. “He will burn down kitchen if left unsupervised.”

You pat his shoulder. You know by now that Piotr takes his duties as a caretaker of the X-Mansion and de-fact-o ‘dad’ of the team seriously; it’s not that he doesn’t want to rail you into the mattress and leave Wade to his devices, it’s that who he is as a person literally won’t let him do that.

And, well, Wade really shouldn’t be left to his own devices. Ever.

“It’s alright, babe. We can do this –each other–later. Besides, Wade said ‘pancakes,’ and I’m hungry.”

 

* * *

 

“The fuck sorta bullshit is this?”

“Wade, please–”

“You let me get all the way through making  _and_  eating breakfast, let me hype myself up about opening presents, and now you’re gonna tell me that I can’t open them yet? Are you fucking serious?”

“Stop,” Piotr says sternly, holding up a hand to reinforce his command. He’s getting better at not letting Wade walk all over him. “Firstly, you did not make breakfast. I made breakfast while Cable removed piece of eggshell that you got in your eye.”

“Potato, tomato.”

“Secondly, I tried to tell you that we have tradition of opening presents later at X-Mansion. You couldn’t hear me because you were talking.”

“Thirdly,” You interject. “You’re a dumbass.”

“I never said that I wasn’t!”

“Y/N, please.” Piotr gives you a look that conveys ‘please don’t get him wound up again, I’m making actual progress here.’ “As I was saying, adults open presents later in day, when most of younger residents have gone to bed.”

“Uh, that’s gonna be a ‘no can do’ with the ‘instant gratification’ side of my brain –which, if you didn’t know, is all of it.”

“Believe me, we’re aware,” Nathan mumbles, expression exasperated and fond all at once.

“We spend the day with the kids that don’t have families to stay with,” Ellie says as she cleans off her breakfast dishes. “We let them open presents, watch movies with them, and do Christmas themed crafts. It helps them maintain a sense of normal and feel loved.”

Piotr nods, practically glowing with pride for his trainee. “That’s right. We will be spending day with younger students.”

“Okay, one: that’s fucking precious. Two: you had me at crafts,” Wade says as he picks up his Santa hat from the floor. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

“Other way,” Piotr says when Wade sprints down the hall and skids to the left.

“Right!”

You chuckle and wrap your arms around Piotr’s waist. “Ready to go make the kids’ Christmas?”

He smiles back at you, blue eyes shining. “ _Da_.”

 

* * *

 

The largest conference room in the X-Mansion has been completely overhauled. A beautiful Christmas tree, lovingly decorated in ornaments made by the students and trainees, stands at one end of the room, while the other end has been converted into a make shift movie theater. In the center of the room are rows of kid sized tables and chairs; the tables have the makings of various Christmas themed crafts on them, mostly colored white, red, and green.

There’s only about twenty kids still present; most of the younger students live in the area and stay with their parents at least part time. The remaining twenty are all ‘surrenders,’ students that came to Xavier’s through the foster system and stay at the mansion permanently –save for Sasha and Katya, who will be leaving in a couple days to celebrate Russian Christmas.

It starts with opening presents; you help hand out lovingly wrapped and handsomely decorated packages to the bouncing gaggle of youngsters. Wrapping paper, ribbons, bows, and labels shaped like snowmen fly everywhere as the kids tear into their presents with glee, cooing and cheering over the treasures inside.

It’s uncontrolled chaos for a while. The kids –and Wade–all dart around the room, playing with their new presents and chasing each other in games of tag. The adults, for the most part, just try to keep the kids –and Wade–from breaking any bones.

Eventually, Piotr manages to get the kids –and Wade–settled at the table for crafts –and you absolutely don’t ogle while he gently and respectfully ushers each kid to a seat while talking with them about whatever they’re babbling about, and Ellie definitely doesn’t have to snap her fingers to snap you out of your ‘exploding ovaries’ induced haze.

And, when you watch him get down on his knees to do coloring pages with the youngest residents, you absolutely don’t decide that you’re going to screw him into the mattress tonight.

(But you totally will.)

 

* * *

 

“Finally!” Wade fishes his presents out from under the tree in the rec room. “I’ve been waiting for this all day!”

You’re in the rec room with the rest of the X-Force; the kids are in bed, dinner has been eaten, and Wade has declared it time to open presents before anyone else could suggest anything else.

You’re on the couch, settled against Piotr’s side and tucked under one of his arms. You flinch when Wade throws a gift directly at your head –Piotr catches it before it can hit you–and glare at your best friend. “Watch it, doofus. You almost hit me.”

“Sorry. I’ll try harder next time.” Wade cackles to himself, then groans when Ellie nails him in the side with a gift he’d thrown at her. “Ow. What the fu-udge. I said fudge.”

“That’s not mine, dipshit. It’s from me, not to me.”

Wade wriggles out from under the tree to pout at your boyfriend. “Okay, how come she can swear but I can’t?”

Piotr sighs and gives Ellie a stern look. “Just finish distributing presents, please.”

 

* * *

 

The present opening was just as much of a trash apocalypse as the one for the kids was. Even though Piotr brought in trash bags for everyone to use, the floor was still littered with crumpled balls of wrapping paper, mangled bows and ribbons, and the carcasses of plastic packaging by the end of it all.

Arguably, the best gift of the night was one from Nathan to Wade –anti-wrinkle cream. The older man had laughed –genuinely laughed, which was a sight and sound that had all of you staring in wonder–as Wade had pummeled him with one of the couch pillows.

Now, though, you’re not thinking about pranks gifts –or even the gifts you got, though you did get a lovely scrapbook from Piotr filled with sketches, photos from the past couple years, and random thoughts.

No, right now you’re in bed with your boyfriend, laying on your stomach while Piotr traces his fingers over and presses kisses against your bare back. You’re still recovering from a particularly fantastic round of Christmas sex with your boyfriend, and you’re beyond pleased that all signs point to a round two in your near future.

 _Or maybe even a round three_ , you think as Piotr starts kissing the back of your neck more insistently. You roll onto your back and loop your arms around his neck. “Feeling good?”

“When I am with you, always,” he murmurs as he nuzzles the side of your neck.

You run your fingers through his soft, shaggy black hair as you let out a soft moan. “Someone’s in a mood tonight.”

He freezes, head to toe. “Am I pushing too much?”

You laugh at his over cautiousness. “I wasn’t complaining, Piotr. Just observing.”

He relaxes again and kisses the underside of you jaw. “ _Khorosho_.” He kisses across your jaw, down your neck, over your collarbones. He shifts from soft, gentle pecks, to heated, sloppy wet kisses that are more tongue than lip, to teasing nips and sucking. While his mouth works at your jaw, your neck, your chest, his hands move over every inch of you he can reach, stroking, caressing, and groping at your body.

You let out a whimper as his teeth graze over one of your collarbones and arch up against him.

He takes the opportunity to slid his hands underneath you and presses them against your back, lifting you off the bed as he sits back.

You settle in his lap, pressing yourself against his chest to stay warm. You tilt your head up and kiss him –well, ‘kiss’ might be too charitable a word, it’s practically all tongue–while your hands flit over his torso, shoulders, and arms.

Then, in a moment of utter Piotr-ness, he breaks the kiss to give you a concerned stare. “Are you happy, Y/N?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, you basically just gave my upper half a tongue bath. Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

He snorts, shocked, and shakes his head. “Oh,  _myshka_ , what am I going to do with you?”

“Fuck me senseless another time or two, I hope.”

He laughs and shakes his head again. “In due time. I meant… are you happy with me? Are you happy with where you life is right now?”

“So, let me get this straight. You were in the process of giving me a tongue bath, and you thought ‘I should totally ask Y/N deep, existential questions right now.’”

He narrows his eyes at you –then whacks you in the shoulder with a pillow. “Quit fooling around.”

You laugh, thrilled; over the past few months you’ve managed to coax out his playful side, and you love that he’ll fire back at your ridiculousness instead of just taking it with a long-suffering smile and a shake of his head. “Of course I’m happy, Piotr. Why wouldn’t I be? This is better than anything I could’ve ever imagined for myself –tongue baths or no tongue baths.”

He rolls his eyes. “I just wanted to be sure.”

You can still see traces of worry in his eyes, and you want to wipe all that away before the two of your start necking again. You cup his face in your hands, gently running the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks. “Piotr Nikolaiveitch Rasputin, I love you more than anything. I’m beyond happy with you, and I wouldn’t trade my life here for anything else. Now, please, stop worrying so that we can go back to foreplay.”

He laughs –actually laughs–and kisses your forehead. “ _Khorosho_. Thank you for humoring me.”

“Actually, I have a question first. Are you going back to Russia with Katya and Sasha for your version of Christmas?”

He shakes his head. “Sasha and Katya live in Moscow. My family is in Siberia; it is not easy to reach during winter. I’ll visit them in summer, when planes can fly safely.”

“Will I ever get to meet your family?”

“Do you want to?”

“Yeah. I do. I mean, I’m sure you get why you’re not meeting my parents, like, ever, but I want to get to know your family.”

He smiles. “Sure. I can work something out.”

“Okay. One last question.”

“ _Da_?”

“…Do you want to do a Russian version of Christmas here? To show me what you grew up with?”

His smile morphs into a soft, blissful grin. “I would love to.”

“Alright. Do you have any other questions of me?”

He smirks. “ _Nyet_.”

“Awesome.” You shove at his chest, pushing him onto his back. “‘Cause it’s my turn to give you a tongue bath.”

He laughs. “Really?”

“Yupp.” You pause from kissing down his chest to grin at him. “And, just so we’re clear, I’m on top this time.”

“As you insist,  _myshka_.”


End file.
